Cupcake

by Mariah Jones

  As I drove to Waistline Watchers, I thought about my present situation. Other than being fat, I was actually pretty happy with my life. I loved my business, most of my customers, my family, and my friends. I wondered why meeting this guy had thrown such a stitch in my routine. He was just a man trying to open a business and there I had gone and made it into something more.

  I smiled as I pulled into the parking lot and saw Dave standing next to his car, waiting for me.

  “All for one and one for all,” he said humorously as we exchanged a quick hug.

  “I have managed to survive all the other excruciating situations I have been in lately. Perhaps this will be my crowning achievement and then I can go back to just being normal,” I said.

  Dave smiled warmly. “You’re going to be just fine. Keep in mind why we’re here right? Nobody else here is having an easy time either,” he reminded me.

  The room appeared to be shrinking as I awaited my turn on the scale. I watched as person after person humbled themselves and weighed-in until only a handful of people were left, including me and Dave.

  Dave was merciful enough to get on the scale before I did. He looked proud standing up there, kind of like a single warrior facing a battlefield full of opponents. He weighed in at 389 pounds and didn’t look terrified at all when the number popped up on the screen behind him.

  I could feel my legs shaking as I walked to the front of the room. I kept telling myself it was just a number and it didn’t matter. This was the beginning of my journey, not the end of the world. I made it up to the scale and turned to face the room. Suddenly I was seized by a memory from my grade school years.

  I was walking through the lunchroom carrying my tray when I slipped on a wet spot on the floor and sprawled out, spilling the contents of my tray. A few kids began to laugh at first, eventually followed by the whole cafeteria. With the memory came the old fear of crowds and sense of gracelessness I had carried with me my entire life.

  I closed my eyes as I waited for the scale to register my weight, afraid that when I opened them, everyone would be laughing at me and pointing. I opened my eyes. The scale hovered in the 320 to 345 range for a few seconds, finally settling on 325. I looked out into the room and no one was laughing or pointing. I realized I had been holding my breath and sucked in a gasp of air.

  Sandy smiled at me as I stepped down off the scale. As I returned to my seat I consciously avoided eye-contact with the other clients, fearful that someone might make a comment I didn’t want to hear.

  Dave reached out and gave my hand a quick, reassuring squeeze. “We did it,” I said. He nodded in reply.

  After the weigh-ins were finished Sandy returned to the podium and gave an inspirational speech about setting realistic and achievable goals for ourselves. Once again my mind wandered to the bakery and all the things I needed to get done in the coming days.

  I began paying attention again right around the time Sandy announced we would be meeting on Friday for our first nutrition class. It was in that moment that I realized I wasn’t cut out for something like Waistline Watchers. I had spent the whole week worrying about the public weigh-in. Now I was going to have to sit through yet another boring nutrition class and all I could think about during each one of these meetings was what I would rather be doing at Cupcake. I didn’t like the idea that everyone else got to see my weight every week and the only reason I had survived long enough to attend the second meeting was to appease my sister.

  “I’m done with this,” I told Dave on the way out to our cars.

  “Me too,” he said simply.

  “This setting just isn’t for me,” I began to explain.

  “If I wanted to advertise that I’m fat I’d pay for a billboard,” he agreed.

  “I’m going out with some friends tomorrow night, would you like to come too?” I asked, feeling guilty already for quitting yet something else I started.

  “I think I’ll sit this one out,” Dave said. “Maybe we can have dinner again later this week.”

  “Sounds good,” I told him, hoping he was okay. His mood seemed to turn a little somber after we left the meeting. “Are you okay?” I asked, not sure if I was out of line.

  “Yeah,” he smiled. “I was just thinking how disappointed Angela would be if she could see how far I’ve let myself slide since she passed.

  “It’s never too late to start over. Someone very smart told me that on the phone the other day,” I said, referring to what he told me.

  “I’ll call you,” Dave said before walking to his vehicle.

  “I look forward to it,” I said.

  ***

  “How was your meeting?” Katie asked expectantly when I returned to Cupcake.

  I set my purse down and took off my sunglasses. I blinked a couple of times as my eyes adjusted. My contacts blurred for a second and I felt like I was in a fish bowl. As I looked up at my sister, the fish bowl feeling grew worse. She was looking at me like she was expecting me to do a trick.

  “I quit,” I said.

  Katie gave me the eyebrow again. “Quit?”

  “Yep, I quit,” I reinforced.

  “You always quit everything,” she said morosely.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the serious look on her face. “I know you think I’m going to fail at this, but I think I will be better off doing this on my own. You thought I needed a support system and I agree with you, but I have one. Just because I live on my own doesn’t mean I don’t have any support. I’ve got you and Jenny and mom and dad.”

  My sister let her eyebrow settle in to its normal position, although it kept threatening to rise again, I swear the thing has a mind of its own.

  “I know how much you want this, and I want it for you,” was all she said before changing the subject.

  I thought about those final words for a while. She was right. I did want to lose the weight, but I wanted to do it on my terms, not because I felt like a room full of people was pressuring me. I wanted to make my own motivation. I had a lot of reasons I wanted to lose the weight and make a change in my life. I wanted to be healthy. I wanted to live longer. I wanted to be able to shop for the kind of clothing that doesn’t come in my size. I watched out the front door as Thorne Birch lifted a box out of the trunk of his car and disappeared into his shop. Oh yeah. I had a lot of reasons to make a change.

  Chapter Eight

  Accidents happen

  Tropical Joe’s is the kind of bar where you just have fun, even if you aren’t drinking. Perhaps it’s the tiki torches or the friendly employees dressed in Hawaiian garb. Maybe it’s the ukulele music in the background or the little umbrellas they stick in your drink even if you only order a diet soda. Whatever the case, Tropical Joe’s has been the favored meeting place for my friends and I since we were old enough to legally get in.

  That particular Tuesday night was no exception. Katie and I sat chatting while we waited for the rest of our party to arrive. Kyle and Amy Reagan showed up shortly after. They were a couple of the few friends we had kept in contact with since high school. Kyle wore his usual Joe’s attire. A blue floral print Hawaiian shirt with khaki shorts. That takes a secure man, I thought as he sat down across from me at the small table.

  Amy was as beautiful as ever with her long, blonde hair piled stylishly on top of her head. She was dressed in a white skirt and black sweater and looked immaculate as always. Kyle and Amy were married right out of high school. They were just as in love as ever that night as they talked to us about Carrie, their three year old daughter.

  I was the only one as usual who had a non-alcoholic drink. The conversation kept getting sillier as the night went on and eventually we changed from subjects like who was dating who from high school and who was divorced to why doesn’t Darcy have a man. I tried to shut Katie up before she got started, but it was too late.

  “She isn’t dating anyone but she’s interested in someone,” My sister blurted out.

  “Have another drink Katie,” I said sarca
stically.

  Amy looked excited. “Really? Miss Picky-pants finally found a love-interest?”

  I toyed with the umbrella in my drink.

  “And the best part is,” said my slightly tipsy sister, “She doesn’t have to go very far to find him. He’s opening the store right next to the bakery.”

  Kyle ordered another round of drinks. “What kind of place is he opening?” he asked.

  “An art supply place,” I said, trying to figure out a way to change the subject without being obvious. I was coming up empty-handed.

  “Ooh an artist,” Amy chortled. “I hear the artsy type make good lovers.”

  “So do computer programmers,” Kyle reminded his wife, pouting playfully.

  “Unless they have a floppy disk,” she responded in turn.

  I thought after the laughter that prompted I would be safe again. After all, they were drinking, how good could their short-term memory be? Yet again I was wrong.

  “So tell us about this mystery man Darcy,” Amy redirected the conversation.

  “There’s really nothing to tell,” I said truthfully.

  “Judging by how fast you started spinning that little umbrella in your drink I think you’re holding out on us,” Kyle chimed in.

  “You’re a lot of help,” I told him.

  “I call it as I see it,” he said satirically.

  As the night wore on my sister switched to non-alcoholic drinks as well, knowing her limit and not wanting to push it. Kyle and Amy left before we did, needing to relieve their babysitter as it was starting to get late.

  Katie and I stayed for another hour, talking about the bakery and Daniel and how much she missed her husband. My sister tended to be more forthcoming with her problems and such when she’d had a few drinks.

  Before we left, Katie somehow managed to convince me to get up on the stage with her for a round of karaoke. I have never been comfortable on a stage or in any situation where I was in front of a room full of people, thus, the terror of the public weigh-in. Still, I find it hard to say no to my sister. Maybe I figured I owed her one for taking the job at Cupcake. Regardless, I let her drag me on to the stage. Truthfully, I have never been able to sing at all. Then again, I guess that’s why karaoke is such a hit. It isn’t the people who can sing that make it worthwhile right? There was a very limited song selection to choose from and we ended up singing ‘Stop in the name of love.’

  Half way through the song the little monitor that displays the lyrics blacked out and I had to start improving the parts of the song I couldn’t remember. Katie carried on, in tune, remembering the words. Something else my sister was blessed with that I got the short end of the stick on, musical talent.

  The audience was comprised of only a few people at that point, as the karaoke was almost done for the night and with it not being a weekend, most people were heading home before work the next morning. I was glad my shame wasn’t too far reaching at least.

  The few patrons clapped and whistled for us when we were done and started chanting one more! One more! I looked at Katie and she gave me the puppy face. “Why not,” I said.

  As we finished our second song, a seventies number this time I can’t recall the name of right now, I looked out at the nearly empty tables. In the corner of the room I noticed someone sitting in the shadows. So there were a few more people than I thought, I discovered.

  Katie and I returned to our table and gathered our things. It was nearly eleven o’clock and we both had to work in the morning. We were still laughing over my failed attempt at singing on our way to the door.

  “So a pastry chef by day and a rock star by night huh?” I heard a smooth voice behind me.

  I turned around to see who was talking to me and gasped. It was Thorne. My first thought was to try and act natural and not say anything stupid I would regret later. My next thought was that he had just heard me sing. “Hi there,” I said, trying to smile normally.

  “This is my first time at this place. Everyone has been recommending it to me, now I see why. The live entertainment is really something,” he said, returning my smile.

  “Okay, okay. Enough poking fun at me already; this place is pretty great though,” I told him, feeling the heat in my cheeks. I wondered how red they were. I looked to Katie for support but she seemed as mesmerized by Thorne as I was.

  “Seriously, I’m not poking fun at you. I thought you were great,” he said, sounding genuine.

  “You must not get out much,” I laughed.

  “Not really no, but I know talent when I see it,” he replied.

  Oh that smile, those eyes, I thought.

  My sister finally found her voice. “So you are the new neighbor?” she asked, the alcohol still influencing the quality of her voice.

  “Guilty as charged. Are you Darcy’s sister?” he asked.

  I shuddered as I realized he had just said my name. He remembered my name, I considered, feeling my face grow even hotter. I must have looked like a vine-ripened tomato.

  “Yes,” Katie agreed, extending her hand. “I’m Darcy’s sister Katie.”

  I could already see how this was going to go. It had been going on my entire life. It wasn’t that Katie meant to steal the spotlight. She would never have done anything to intentionally hurt me, but she was gorgeous and thin and men gravitated toward her outgoing personality. Even though Katie was married now and ‘off the market’ so to speak, it never stopped men from trying. I expected that I would be ignored from that moment on. To my surprise it didn’t happen that way.

  “Very pleased to meet you,” Thorne said, giving Katie’s hand a polite shake and returning his attention to me.

  “What time do you open in the morning?” he asked me.

  I’m open twenty-four hours for you I heard a voice in my head that sounded very unlike me say. “The bakery opens at eight tomorrow,” I stuttered, praying I wouldn’t repeat anything my mind was saying.

  “Great. I’ll see you at eight. I’m going to need a good dose of sugar for breakfast. Tomorrow I’m getting all the shelves up in the store and the new furniture is being delivered. Long day ahead and an early morning, so I guess I ought to bid you fair ladies goodnight,” said Thorne, his hair falling forward into his right eye.

  “It was nice seeing you,” I said in a voice I didn’t recognize as my own. It sounded sultry. I hoped it didn’t sound as bizarre to him as it did to me.

  “It was nice seeing you too. You look beautiful tonight,” he said.

  I didn’t know how to respond. I couldn’t even squeak out a thank you as I had suddenly lost the ability to breathe.

  He turned then, swiftly walking out the door to his car.

  “You look beautiful tonight?” my sister squealed at me after he left. “Darcy he was flirting with you!”

  “No he wasn’t. He was just being nice,” I told her.

  “I saw the way he was looking at you. Trust me he was not just being nice,” she retorted.

  “You’ve lost your mind,” I said, grabbing the keys from her and unlocking the door of her car. “I’m driving.”

  “No kidding?” she said sarcastically as she stabilized her wobbly frame against the passenger door.

  “I’ll bring your car back in the morning,” I told her. “I’ll be over at seven-thirty to pick you and Daniel up.”

  Katie watched as Thorne’s car pulled out of the parking lot ahead of us.

  “What are you going to do now?” she asked, looking pensive.

  “Drive you home,” I replied, knowing what she meant but playing dumb.

  “You know what I mean. He was flirting with you and you know it. I don’t see why you don’t just ask him out. It isn’t like women don’t do that these days. I know you can’t stop thinking about him. He’s gorgeous. If I wasn’t married I’d be all over him,” Katie commented.

  I pushed my bangs out of my face and gave my sister a look of exasperation. “So he makes one nice comment and now you have us walking down the aisle next wee
k?”

  The dreaded eyebrow returned. “You realize if you don’t get a hold of him soon Nancy will ruin his opinion of women within the next week and he might possibly become gay.”

  I thought of Nancy’s purple heels and shuddered. Then I burst out laughing. “You are so bad,” I said.

  My sister gave me a serious look before reaching for the door handle. We had been in front of her house for a few minutes but neither of us seemed in a hurry to leave. “Why can’t you accept that you have a right to be happy too? Why does everything with you have to revolve around how big or small you are or how successful or what other people might think? You survived a bullet and yet you haven’t taken advantage of the second chance you’ve been given. Just think about it, that’s all I’m asking for.”